


Hey, High, Hello

by synthetic_assthetic



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Making Out, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning, Smoking, lazy day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 17:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8902579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synthetic_assthetic/pseuds/synthetic_assthetic
Summary: I would LOVE to see the boys come home from tour and to wind down they just decide to get hhhhiiiiiiiigggghhhh just shotgunning smoke and making out mm hell yes
(alternatively, I got high last night and thought that dnp deserved to get lit too)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Read it on Tumblr: http://synthetic-assthetic.tumblr.com/post/154665376156/hey-high-hello

As Phil schlepped their last suitcase up the mountain of stairs into the main hallway of their apartment, they were officially, with the click of their front door lock, back home. Phil let out a huff of exaggerated effort as he stacked the final piece of luggage atop the pile that had been created, and moved to join Dan in the lounge, the younger man laying lengthwise across the couch with an arm over his face.

“Home sweet home and a half.” Dan mumbled as he heard Phil presence, voice dampened in his sleeve. Phil sat at the end of the couch in front of Dan’s legs, an elbow bent on the top of the couch to support his chin in his hand. “About time.” He added. Dan lifted his arms to hook them over the arm of the sofa behind his head. “Feels good to lay in my own sofa crease,” he remarked, wiggling. “that and not having to worry about getting up at fucking 6am for a rehearsal or a sound check.”

Phil smiled, “Or having to deal with a million people telling us what to do every other second.” He raked his eyes across his lover’s face, happy to finally take a moment to just look at him. Even though they’d been inseperable for the last year and a half at meetings, performances, award shows, and general media appearances, Phil took a second to acknowledge that although they’d been together for that period of time, they hadn’t been together like this in a while: on their own couch, in their own place, in each other’s company alone. “I love you.” Phil stated firmly. “I love you too.” Dan replied with a chuckle and a smiley grin.

Dan sat up, retrieving his legs from behind Phil’s back to sit crosslegged beside him. “Wanna see what I brought back from Berlin?” He asked, voice ominously excited, like a toddler asking a parent to look at what they’ve done, only to be met with a wall of crayon. Phil raised an eyebrow. “What is it?” Dan got up and ran out of the room with a giggle, rummaging through the stacks of luggage Phil had just got through putting aside. He returned into the lounge with his hands behind his back, a mischevious twinkle in his eye.

“Dan..?” Phil spoke, almost worried. “Wha-”

He was cut off by Dan tossing a small plastic baggie onto his lap. Phil inspected the object briefly, noting the balls of green plant matter inside it. “You smuggled weed in your luggage?” Phil remarked, surprised but not disappointed.

Dan shrugged. “We took a train home, not like I’d get frisked by airport security.” He moved to plop back down next to his flatmate. “Plus, it’s amazing how cheap you can get an eighth when you’re buying from a fan.” Phil rolled his eyes. He picked up the bag and opened it, sniffing the contents. “So this is our night, then? AmazinglyHighPhil?” Phil contended. “AmazingPhil’sOnFire?” Dan scrunched his face at Phil’s words, a small chuckle escaping him as he moved to stand again. “I’ll get the bong and a lighter.”

“DanIsOnFire too, then?” Phil continued, and Dan grimaced. “Please shut up.” And Phil giggled in response, tongue between his teeth.

Dan made his way into his room and opened up his wardrobe, grabbing the glass bong from the back of it. He opened up his bedside drawer for a lighter, flicking his thumb against the sparkwheel twice, satisfied with the flame that was produced. He brought the bong into the kitchen and ran the tap to fill the body with just enough water to cover the downstem, he then rummaged in the freezer for a handful of ice cubes, dropping them into the chamber. Dan carried the bong back into the lounge, setting it along with the lighter onto the coffee table, Phil had prepped a couple bowl’s worth of weed in a grinder they conveniently kept on their games shelf nonchalantly spaced amongst a few amiibos. They weren’t exactly potheads, per se. However, Dan concluded it’d be very easy for one to keep content in their household.

“Ready to get lit then, Philly?” Dan remarked, pulling the bowl from the front of the bong to give to Phil to pack. Phil gingerly placed a little less than half a gram of weed into the bowl, snagging the lighter from the table and using the end of it to tap it down. He moved the grinder from his lap onto the coffee table in exchange to grab the bong and replace the bowl in the front of it. He handed it to Dan, lighter in the opposite hand. “Greens for the princess?” Dan shook his head, insisting Phil take the first hit. “After you, baby.”

Phil kindly took the offer, he placed the mouthpiece over his lips and flicked on the lighter, gently raking the flame across the edge of the bowl. Phil inhaled, letting the chamber fill with smoke as the bottom bubbled away, the entire inside of the bong turning a milky white. He pulled the bowl from the front of the bong and inhaled sharply, taking in almost all the smoke into his lungs. Phil held the smoke in his lungs for all of about two seconds before turning his head and less than gracefully letting it all out with a cough, a puff of grey emitting from him. “Oh, gosh.” He remarked at the strength of the smoke, forgetting the sensitivity of his own lungs and throat.

“Better clear that.” Dan smirked, noting the residual smoke still sitting in the chamber, Phil still coughing. “Been too long?”

Phil shook his head before catching his breath and inhaling more of the smoke from the chamber, blowing it out more controlled this time. He placed the bowl back onto the bong. “Go on then.” Phil rhetorted, another cough escaping him as he handed Dan the bong and the lighter. “Clear it without coughing. Bet you can’t.” Dan looked smug at the challenge and brought the mouthpiece to his lips. He sparked the lighter and held the flame to the bowl briefly, inhaling and filling the bong with smoke. Dan lifted the bowl off with a large intake of breath and took in the entire chamber of smoke into his lungs, clearing the bong in a single rip. He made eye contact with Phil and wagged an eyebrow, holding the smoke in his lungs before exhaling slowly in front of him, the last bit of smoke fighting back with a cough Dan couldn’t help.

“Hah!” Phil puffed. “You coughed!” He could feel his head just barely begin to fuzz, the smell of weed starting to fill the space of their lounge. There was a passing thought in Phil’s head that he should maybe open a window, but he couldn’t be bothered. Dan rolled his eyes, passing everything back into Phil’s hands, he reclined back onto the sofa, elbows on the back of it and extending his legs out in front of him with his feet on the floor, wedging himself in his sofa crease. “Cleared it all in one go though.” He pointed out. “Who’s the princess now?”

“Still you.” Phil pined, tamping the remaining green down with the lighter once more. Phil gracefully took another hit off the bong, his inhale taking up all of the chamber’s smoke this time. He managed to hold the smoke in his lungs without incident, tilting his head back and blowing it out above his head, enjoying the activity entirely. Dan leaned over and inhaled against the mouthpiece before the hit Phil had lit up completely burnt out, taking in about two-thirds as much smoke as Phil had. Dan moved to touch his forehead to the older man’s and tap at Phil’s chin with a finger before blowing the smoke out into Phil’s mouth. Phil hummed in approval and laced a hand at the back Dan’s head, pressing their mouths together in a gentle kiss.

Phil moved to set the bong back onto the table lest he spill bong water all over themselves (definitely less than desirable, trust me) and returned his attention to Dan’s mouth. Dan licked at Phil’s bottom lip before taking it between his teeth and pulling it away lightly, pressing their lips together once more. Phil sighed content, Dan moving to sit up on his legs, facing Phil once more. As the pair continued to make out, their headspace began to more and more resemble a gentle T.V. static as the THC began to saturate their bodies.

The pair had enjoyed getting high together since they’d first met, Dan being the more avid smoker at the start. He’d blabber on to Phil about how he and his other law major buddies would take the edge off a study session with a quick smoke, and how more objectively speaking, it helped Dan out with controlling his anxiety. There was also that one night, the two sat on Skype just chatting about their respective days, where Dan had pulled out a half a weed brownie to show Phil on camera. He nibbled off the end of it before taking way too large a piece in his mouth, and Dan spent the next two hours just grinning stupidly at the webcam. He boarded that first train to Manchester with a small colored glass pipe and a half gram of weed in his pockets, the boys inevitably sharing their first kiss with the gentle coaxing hand of Ms. Mary Jane.

Phil pulled away, taking a beat to kiss Dan’s cheek and smile at the younger man, running a thumb across his jawline. He nodded toward the table. “Fancy floating a bit higher, Danny boy?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Dan smiled, grabbing the bong and burning the last bit of bud in the bowl, managing one more full chamber of smoke in his lungs, turning his head to exhale. He could feel his eyelids begin to weight downward, his whole body climbing closer to a proper high. Phil snatched the grinder off the table and unscrewed the top, taking the bowl from Dan’s hand before he’d the chance to replace it on the bong and tapped out the bit of ash onto their coffee table, dismissing the mess as something to be done when they’d drifted back down. “Phil..” Dan complained, noting his actions. “The table’s black, it won’t stain it. Hush.” Phil loaded the bowl with just as much as the last, packing it down with the back of his thumb. He set the grinder back onto the table and replaced the bowl onto the bong still in Dan’s lap. “Again.” Phil offered, nudging at Dan’s hand with the lighter, and Dan complied.

Dan once again held a small flame to the corner of the bowl, just barely singeing the tips of the weed inside. He inhaled leisurely, letting the chamber loftily grow a bright white before popping the bowl off the end and inhaling. Dan groaned as he exhaled this time, feeling his nerve endings glaze over and time begin to slow. Phil smirked, taking everything into his hands and mimicing Dan’s actions. He took a breath of smoke into his lungs and quickly shoved the bong back into Dan’s hold, decidedly not exhaling yet. Dan caught Phil’s drift and took another quick hit and again placed the bong back onto the table before leaning back up towards Phil’s face, both not yet exhaling.

Dan tangled a hand at the back of Phil’s hair and opened his mouth against the older man’s, both just letting smoke softly dissipate into the space between them. Phil groaned, pushing more smoke into Dan’s mouth and Dan’s gently breathed out before inhaling again, taking the combination of smoke back into his lungs.

“S’nice.” Phil purred, his face still close against Dan’s. He pressed another kiss to Dan’s lips and wrapped his arms around his torso.

“Mm.” Dan sighed with a smile, thoroughly entranced by the texture of Phil’s hair between his fingers and the press of their lips. He licked a slow stripe against Phil’s bottom lip. “More.” The younger man breathed, and Phil giggled. “You’re sure?” It’s not like they were in danger of hurting themselves, debating whether or not they’d like to suffer through a wicked hangover the next morning. Weed wasn’t that same level of asshole as too many flaming shots, not even close. It’s just that Phil was already at that level of high where the press of Dan’s lips against his was hyper sensitive in his brain, and the hand in his hair was just the right amount of tingly. Another rip or two himself and the sensitivity would devolve into a numbness. Phil however knew that the higher Dan floated, the more smiley he’d get, his cheeks stuck upward and tiny giggles impossible to stop from flowing forward.

Not letting that opportunity waste itself, when Dan nodded in affirmation, Phil lazily handed the bong over to him. “Go on then, baby boy.” Phil coaxed. Dan hummed happily to himself as he prepped another column of smoke, inhaling it all with an obvious expression of effort to keep it in as he set the bong onto the floor and clambored into Phil’s lap. Phil hazily rest his hands on Dan’s hips, opening his mouth with an “Aaahh.” Dan couldn’t help but giggle, some of the smoke escaping through his nose. He grabbed at Phil’s face with both hands and kissed him, comfortably exhaling and letting Phil bask in the secondhand as the pair enjoyed the taste of each others mouths plus the musky taste of smoke.

After a short while, Dan pulled back, still sat atop Phil’s thighs. “I’m high.” He stated decisively, bringing his own hands up to his face and squishing his cheeks upward. “High, high, high.” He singsonged, and Phil chuckled deep in his chest. “Hello High, my name’s Phil.” He drawled, and Dan shoved Phil’s shoulder with little force. “Shut up.”

Phil brought a hand up to trace a finger across Dan’s cheekbone. “Feelin’ good?” He questioned, voice small. Dan smiled. “Like I’m on top of the world.” Dan answered, wiggling his head from side to side as he spoke the sentence to the ceiling. Phil smiled, bringing his hand from Dan’s face to his shirt collar, tugging him forward to meet their lips once again. As they kissed, memory of all their completed endeavors flooded the forefront of Phil’s thinking. The awards they won, the people they met, the days they made.

The smoke in their lounge hung heavy around them as they fully indulged in each other’s presence, not going anywhere. Much like themselves, Phil thought inwardly. There was no stripping the matching smiles off their faces, kissing and giggling, and oh so very content.

They were, in fact, at the top of their world.


End file.
